


Thicker Than Blood

by Trins_xxx



Series: Tales of Queens [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6331948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trins_xxx/pseuds/Trins_xxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are back in the Enchanted Forest, Henry long gone. Tink starts rediscovering the land that she had been created in, the land full of magic where magic is despised, where the alleged leaders barely know their own lands and laws, and where the despised Evil Queen might not be so very despised after all. AU Eventual Outlaw Queen. Tink/Regina friendship and Tink-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> It started as theoretical one-shots and has developed into a story full of actual plots and direction. It also started as very, very dark and has instead become sardonic, sarcastic, and humorous if your humour bends that way. At least, I found it humorous to write. I hope you guys find it equally entertaining to read.

**Thicker than blood**

' _He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.'_

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

* * *

 

Tinker Bell isn't sure whether it has something to do with power or magic, but she and Blue are the first ones to overcome the effects of breaking the curse, which theoretically meant that Regina should have been up and about too.

 

She glanced around uncertainly, the tendrils of panic slowly taking root as she saw everyone as their Enchanted Forest counterparts but no Evil Queen in sight.

 

'She's over there,' Blue nodded to her right. Tinker Bell didn't pause to wonder how Blue knew what she was thinking (or was she just that transparent?) as she took off in a hurried jog in that direction, the panic slowly but surely growing within her.

 

It wasn't hard to find Regina in the end. The sound of sobs, soul crushing, body wrecking sobs, led easily to her and Tinker Bell had to force down the bile that had unknowingly risen into her mouth.

 

Life wasn't fair.

 

She's learned that one from personal experience. It wasn't fair that she'd just been trying to reach out to a lost and broken soul and got punished for it. It wasn't fair that even though she was right, everyone had made her doubt herself. It wasn't fair that she'd lost her wings because of someone else's fears and weaknesses and it wasn't fair that she had been stuck on Neverland when she had never done anything  _wrong_  or  _evil_  as such.

 

It was this that allowed her to empathise with Regina.

 

'Go away, Tink,' she said, her back to the fairy yet still somehow sensing her in the midst of her misery. Understandably, the fairy just ignored her, stepping forward cautiously, one at a time, the seeds of dread taking root easily in the panic that seemed to send the fairy's nerves buzzing.

 

'Tink, just go  _away_ ,' she repeated, less force this time and with the slightest hint of despair, infecting Tinker Bell with the same emotion; panic, dread and despair made for a sickening mixture.

 

It wasn't fair for Regina to have her happy ever after killed by her mother, she thinks, as she gets closer.

 

' _Regina_...' Tink's voice is hoarse as it fades away, any other words inadequate to convey anything that she's feeling, nothing to what Regina must be feelings.

 

'Go  _away_  Tinker Bell.' A small ball of fire erupts from her hands as she stands up. The fairy's eyes watch the flames, fascinated to find that they seem to melt away from Regina's form and she wonders, distantly, if maybe there's some sort of magic protecting the user from itself, at least in a physical sense. She watches her as she staggers to a stand, fists clenched tightly enough to cause pallor around her knuckles, and the dread becomes a little dizzying, maybe just the tiniest bit overwhelming.

 

It wasn't fair for Regina to be made a wife for a man old enough to be her father and mother to a stepdaughter less than ten years her junior.

 

The fairy blinked away tears as she continued to approach the queen, realising a little belatedly that her wings had returned. How strange it was that what was once most important to her had now faded into mostly insignificance, when faced with the heartbreak and self-sacrifice of a...yes, a friend. She tried to speak again. ' _Regina_ ,' she forced the words around the lump in her throat.

 

'It's fine.  _I'm_  fine,' Regina appeared to physically force the shuddering of her frame into submission. 'You can leave now. Check on the others,' she added as an afterthought, causing a wry smile on the blonde's face to appear. She wasn't concerned about anyone except the person right in front of her, she thinks as she feels the emotions result in a tango between bile and acid in her stomach, tempting her to open her mouth and let it all out.

 

It's not fair that Regina had been essentially abandoned in a large castle and isolated, most of the time from her husband and stepdaughter too.

 

'I know you will be, in time,' is what comes out of her mouth instead. Limp though the words are, she still cringes when Regina derisively snorts.

 

The subsequent silence wraps them in a strange sort of companionship, the darkness of the looming trees eerily quiet, absent of its usual noises of birds, preys, predators and critters. Despite the recent travel to Neverland, it felt alien compared to the world of Storybrooke that everyone had swiftly acclimatised to. It occurs to her that this is where everything began, the slow extraction of happiness from Regina's life. She's always been teetering on the edge of destruction and self-destruction and this could be the trigger for the nuclear implosion of her being...again.

 

It's not fair that Regina was ever desperate enough,  _desolate_  enough, to jump (or fall) from a balcony.

 

'You have me...' The words are out there, heavy and suffocating as she waits carefully for Regina's response, only to find none. Her nerves are being gradually stretched to their breaking point when Regina finally turns around to face her, a blotchy mess left from the tears. It's morbid watching her slowly blink away any remnants of tears in her eyes, watching the pink splotches of colour slowly fade away, till nothing's left of her emotional breakdown other than a reddened nose and the faintest of tear trails. It's like watching Dostoevsky in action, turning wretchedness and misery into something that could function, even if it is at the bare minimum of existence.

 

She watches the back straighten from its stooped posture and the head gradually tilts back, in a manner reminiscent of true royalty and Tinker Bell inwardly marvels at such a display, such majesty in the midst of tragedy.

 

'We should head back,' is all she says, offering no reply to the fairy's proffered friendship but she isn't really surprised.

 

What is a friendship when faced with the permanent loss of a son?

 

It's not fair that Regina finally found true love in the form of her son, only to lose him completely and utterly, in order to save him and everyone else.

 

'Let's. Blue is up, some of the others were stirring but everyone seemed unharmed.' She pauses, before she decides to speak what was on her mind. The woman she sees in front of her, it scares her. She's terrified because she's seen this woman before. It was the woman who had jumped off her balcony and she doesn't want to see it happen again. 'Even if I am not your friend, you are still mine.'

 

She's turned her back to Regina, ready to walk back to the others when she hears the words, so softly spoken that she's not sure whether she was meant to hear it or not.

 

'Thanks, Tink. You're friendship is all I have left...'

 

It burns a hole that penetrates from her heart to her soul. They make their way back in silence, Regina lost in memories of a much beloved son and Tinker Bell wondering who the hell Blue had been to tell her that Regina was beyond salvation? Nobody deserves happy endings more than them, she thinks. And Regina, whatever evil she may have done, has sacrificed more than enough for the happiness and safety of others.

 

And maybe it isn't a happy ending, maybe there isn't a purely happy ending for Regina, with a son forever beyond her reach. But she could have a relatively happy ending, couldn't she? Starting with a friendship Tinker Bell was intent on keeping for life.

 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Tink and Regina ponder how humans in the world without magic study everything, how the enchanted forest study nothing and thoughts can start a revolution, can't they? But it doesn't matter. Regina misses Henry but Tink's never really liked him anyway but oh well, not much action yet.

**Thicker Than Blood**

' _Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves_.'

~ Carl Jung ~

* * *

 

Her chest feels impossibly heavy when she wakes up, covered in clinging sweat that makes the night chilly despite the lack of wind. Tinkerbell looks around, tries to pierce the darkness with doubtful success. The night is dark but it is the branches of the trees above, reaching for each other and providing a delicate canopy that hides any weak light that the moon could have offered.

 

She's shaken, literally. Her hands held in front of her tremble pitifully and she has to choke back… A sob? A scream? A plea for help? A cry for Regina?

 

Regina could help. Maybe. She would know what it was, what it could be, how to find out what it means.  _What was it?_ It sounded suspiciously like the nightmares she had heard some of the lost boys whisper about but they were unheard of amongst fairies. Sleep was barely required of them, a couple of hours every week more than sufficing and dreams were considered a rare gift, bestowed on those with destinies before them. Tinkerbell had never had a dream before, none that she could recall, and for one to be this unpleasant, to leave her lungs begging for more air, chest heaving in barely subdued panic, heart racing faster than her thoughts… It felt like a warning of sorts.

 

'Regina?' This time, her thoughts made their way to her lips but her whisper was as pitiful and shaky as her hands. Her knees are wobbly, too, when she stands but its instinct at its basest guiding her, prompting her to stand and search for whoever or whatever could comfort her. 'Regina?' She tries again, her lips dry and cracked and her mouth too dry to offer it any help. She makes her way to the right, tentative step at a time. There's just enough light to see those right in front of her. Anything more than a foot away is cloaked in darkness impossible to pierce now that their campfire has died down. She's nearing the edge of the clearing they had settled at for the night, Regina  _obviously_  opting for the outskirts of said clearing. Tinkerbell doesn't know whether it's psychological on Regina's part or that of her subjects, but she seems to be constantly pushed away.

 

The earth feels unsteady beneath her, rising and falling as if it were breathing. Thank god for the flat shoes, she suddenly thinks. She's seen some of the teetering, tottering tall shoes Regina had and recalls easily the flimsy, whimsical, impractical shoes that had been popular in this world. The ones she wore now were much easier to walk in, though she had that perpetual longing to be up in the air. Her wings twinged, as if reminding her of their presence or maybe demanding to be used but she ignores it and pays the price as she stumbles over somebody.

 

'Oomph,' her hands land solidly on the dirt, barely keeping the rest of her off the ground. With little more than grunting and incomprehensible muttering, the poorly kempt man turns over in her direction, still asleep. Tink's eyes swept around him, finding tousled blankets on the ground beyond the sleeping man, where the clearing tapered to the forest proper. She was certain that's where Regina had laid for the night.

 

A panic of a different kind pulses through her veins, stomach churning enough to feel sick. Had she ever felt like this when she had been a simple fairy? She can't remember. Those times felt several lifetimes ago, as if they had been a dream or a feverish delirium, but this panic was all too visceral, familiar like a ghost from her time with Peter Pan.

 

Without thought, she finds herself on her feet, staring down at where Regina had slept and without any further conscious thought, Tinkerbell's feet lead her into the trees, the branches decorating her with superficial scratches, like witches' claws trying to hold her back. She ignores them, her mind a meaningless buzz with little consequential thought. The trees all look the same, faceless dark things without any individuality or identity and it's not long before Tinkerbell is fully aware that she's lost. For all that this is the land where she was created and came into being, that is arguably her motherland, the world she belongs to, she doesn't understand it. She'd spent so much more time in Neverland, time during which she had grown and developed and became something that could be described as more than 'green' and 'fairy', and sometimes she thinks she owns that world as much as that world owned her.

 

And then there's Regina's world, which was really not Regina's at all. Sure, it was her curse that took them there, but she was born and raised in this land, however much she might have loved that kingdom. Their tentative friendship but non-friendship had meant that Tinkerbell had become accustomed to that world, with its rules and limitations and comforts so quickly, maybe too easily. What does it say about this land that neither Tinkerbell, nor Regina, nor many of the others, she suspects, love it, or feel that they belong to it? It's ironic that returning here feels like a trap, a greater curse than the one that took Regina away from here.

 

She doesn't realise how abnormally silent, eerily so, the forest is until it's broken. Too quiet, too distant to be clearly made out, automatically Tinkerbell follows it. And maybe it is just having a purpose or destination, but it feels easier to walk in that direction than it had before.

 

If she didn't know any better, Tinkerbell would call it magic, the way that the branches scratched her just a little less, the way the darkness eased up just a little bit. What is definitely not magic is the noise becoming clearer, the curiously memorable whispers of water lapping against each other. What was less identifiable was another sound that sent little shocks to her fingertips, tingling down her back and up her neck. She recognised it like a burning itch that she couldn't reach, just out of reach.

 

And then she comes upon a sight that stops her dead in her tracks, an immovable statue bearing witness to a sight that froze like fire, burned like ice, the scene from a devastating fairytale.

 

Did Henry ever read this side of the story? Of a princess with her happy endings snatched from her so that his glorious hero could have a stepmother? Her lips twist and turn into a sneer with the thoughts because she's never really liked him, not for his own sake, only for the sake of Regina.

 

And it was Regina she could see, bathed in the faint shimmering moonlight that could make its way through the treetops, crouched on the ground on her knees beside the slimmest of water flowing beside her. It was an ethereal scene, made all the more nauseatingly disturbing by the sound of retching that came from her.

 

_Regina_. Her name doesn't make it to Tink's lips this time but her steps carry her forward and she finds herself on the ground beside the Queen.

 

'I'm okay,' the Queen croaks out, voice dry and cracked and eyes red from the water it had undoubtedly unleashed. She had once described the other world, the one without magic, as containing all the more magic within it, because the humans, with the limitations severe compared to this world, had sought to learn all about it.

 

'They study everything,' she'd said with a roll of her eyes, but Tink had seen the respect hidden within them.

 

'Everything?' She had asked sceptically. 'Like insect and birds and animals?' Regina nodded to each. 'Do they study themselves?' She had asked with a little derision, almost pouting when Regina had nodded at that too. 'What about stories and fairytales?' She'd tried again but Regina had only nodded, smirk growing wider and wider.

 

'They  _even_  study how old trees are,' she'd rolled her eyes dramatically again. 'Dendrochronology – it's the rings trees have when you cut them,' she'd added and Tink had wondered if they were thinking the same thing. Could it have been studied here? Could that notion of studying everything have taken root here? Could they have studied history and learnt from it? Could they have progressed and discovered electricity? Or gunpowder and guns? Or fireworks? Or that rulers taking what they wanted was  _wrong_  and shouldn't be permitted? Could Regina have been saved if they'd just learnt to study everything and understand and analyse and  _progress_  from what they'd known all along instead of sitting pretty on it?

 

It doesn't take a lot of studying or understanding or analysing to know why Regina is here, in the dead of night, trying to bring up something from her stomach when it's all probably lying by her feet. Her hands are steady when she pushes the ridiculously long hair back from Regina's face and grips it in one hand, the other coming to rest on her back.

 

'I know, Regina, I know this is killing you,' Tink murmurs in a soft voice that rages internally at the selfish brat that could so readily destroy someone. She herself doesn't know whether she means little Princess Snow or Henry. 'I know you're missing Henry and it's not going to be less painful. But I'll be here for you and we'll get through it together.' Tink promises. Neither of them have had a fair or easy life, and Tink's unsavoury lot in life could be attributed to Regina, but they share an understanding; it's all that matters to Tink.

 

Regina's eyes fill with water that Tink ignores out of respect, staring distantly at something that Tink could never see. 'It's not Henry,' is all Regina has to say to shift the focus of the world for Tinkerbell once again.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Regina has another friend, whether she wants it or not, Tink doesn't feel all that much loyalty to the snooty Blue Fairy, Charming gets woken up with a kick that seems to hurt Tink as much as Charming himself (but it's okay, because they had Granny's permission to wake him up), and Granny is really, really, REALLY unimpressed with Charming and Snow.

**Thicker Than Blood**

' _A year from now you may wish you had started today_.'

~ Karen Lamb ~

* * *

 

Tinkerbell has seen four sunrises, Regina by her side, violent slashes of colour destroying the velvet darkness overhead like drops of blood dissipating in water. Each of the cherished sunrises started the night before, moon at its highest, with Regina waking up with strangled sobs, choked screams and the retching, constant, painful retching that never allowed her to keep anything within her stomach.

 

Each of those nights has Tinkerbell waking up from nightmares, her seven senses on fire and that pressure always on her chest, never letting up and never letting her breathe. The easy assumption would be that it was nerves from returning here – Blue had said as much, her manner as snooty as the last time Tink had been a fairy. It was too simple an explanation. There is an unease that permeates the air, and it keeps Tink close to Regina's side, even when ordered otherwise.

 

'I can represent the fairies down here, help them if needed, and contact you with news,' Tink had parroted what Regina had suggested earlier, and miraculously it had worked. The lines of suspicion had eased in the old fairy's face and she had agreed, demanding regular updates; updates Tinkerbell has thus far ignored – she could claim that little of note has happened, if Regina's nightly terrors and diminishing weight were discounted, as undoubtedly that bitchy old fairy would.

 

It was obvious that Blue didn't trust the Evil Queen, despite the sacrifices she had made. Her feelings, in fact, went considerably beyond that, bordering on loathing. The Blue Fairy made no effort to disguise the contempt on her face when she looked at the Queen, didn't hide her suspicion whenever Regina took a step, and flung her scorn freely if words ever left Regina's lips. Tinkerbell wouldn't have tolerated it, but for the glint in Regina's eyes that mirrored everything Blue felt tenfold yet better hid and her gentle hand that maintained calm as it rested on Tink's arm.

 

The discord itself surprisingly doesn't bother her at all, Tinkerbell muses as she stares into the running water before her, reflecting the sky above with the darkness slowly dissolving. Her loyalty is with Regina, and when the time comes, she would act accordingly. Until then, she decides to avoid the battles she could.

 

'You know you don't need to keep me company,' the scratchy murmur reaches Tink's ears. She couldn't seem to gainsay Regina's mistrust, regardless of what she did. She'd tried a myriad of ways – comfort the first night, questions the second, pleading the third and worried annoyance the fourth. Tonight, she has opted for silence with little success.

 

Their companionable silence is strangely soothing, with the sounds of the beasts of the night muffled and distant. This is their own little paradise – a cocoon apart from the disgruntled, ungrateful beings that had followed Regina back to this land, their land. The magic is palpable here – soft and insubstantial like the changing of summer into autumn. It is dangerously intoxicating and Tink finds herself treasuring these moments of magic, desiring more every time.

 

It feels like she has but blinked and the sun is rising, the near blackness of the sky melting seamlessly into cheery blue, the brushes of orange and red and pink creating a dizzying vision. They stay together for moments longer before, with silent accord, they both make their way back to the camp.

 

Regina's bedding remains on the edge of the encampment, closest to the running water, and Tink, with stubborn loyalty and unnecessary defiance, keeps her bedding next to Regina's. This latest enclosure is considerably smaller than their first few, just enough room for all to lie without touching each other. It feels suffocating, Tink thinks as she eyes the slumbering masses with overt distaste. There had been a benefit to being alone on Pan's island.

 

With dawn, there is stirring but the only one to make an effort to get up is Granny, who has elected to bed near them, grumbling about ungrateful spoilt kids and granddaughters who cared naught for their aging relatives. Tink smothers a giggle at the familiar rant and sees, from the corner of her eye, the corner of Regina's lips uplift the faintest.

 

'We need food,' Granny's voice comes loud and clear, enough to wake the lightest of sleepers. Her eyes, sharp and shrewd, stares into theirs unblinking. 'Make that oaf of a prince go hunting – we need more than berries and he's done enough moping.'

 

'Should I use those words exactly?' Regina replies, voice smooth as silk.

 

'Yes, and tell him you're quoting me too,' Granny snaps back unimpressed before her voice settles into the familiar soto voce she commonly employs to air her grievances. 'Acting like little children and throwing tantrums…'

 

Regina's lips curve into a surprisingly gleeful, if vindictive, smile, before she stalks over to the royal couple – of course, resting in the centre of the clearing. Tink tags along, to ensure Regina's safety, she tells herself - definitely not because this has the potential to be hilarious.

 

They both tower over the snoring man, still deep in an oblivious sleep. No sense of self preservation whatsoever, Tink thinks. He wouldn't have lasted a night in Neverland alone. Thank the stars he had his wife and minions to ensure his longevity.

 

'Are you going to kick him awake?' Tink asks out of politeness, employing the same voice she had used when she had commented on how green the forest was and how the weather wasn't as pleasant as it ought to be for this season and how dreadfully glad she was for her flat shoes (and moreso for her ability to fly). As with all those times, the look Regina reserves for her drips with fond irritation, a look Tink has seen nobody else pull of.

 

'It might be taken as an act of aggression,' is Regina's dry reply, having clearly already considered it. 'I'll probably be held captive,' she says, a certain bitterness running through the words that turns Tink's stomach.

 

'I'll do it then,' Tink says brightly, her wings fluttering with excitement. Before Regina could stop her (and deny it as she might, Tink saw the intention clear across her face), Tink has lifted her left foot and pushed it in forcefully into the lazy prince's stomach. She pays for it with a pained yelp that echoes his pained yelp, but at least she'll remember to not lead with her toes for the next time.

 

That seems to awaken the lot of them up as Granny's shouts and Regina's nightmares hadn't. But  _of course_  the Shepherd Prince's yelping would.

 

' _Regina_!' Snow's voice, shocked and astounded and horrified, carries loudly and clearly, almost as if she is deliberately announcing it to everyone within the clearing. ' _How_  could you?'

 

With a long suffering sigh and a roll of the eyes, Regina counters with, 'I didn't do anything.' It is said factually and dismissively but is soundly ignored. Through the rising din of increasingly aggressive voices, Snow's voice once again cuts through them. 'Oh,  _of course_ , you didn't. You're just standing over Charming to enjoy the scenery.'

 

Tink looks at Regina as she looks back at her. The face is white, looks bloodless, her eyes look large and haunted, and there is a general greenish tinge (not just because they were in the middle of a forest) that warned Tink that the Queen might just throw up, there and then. With visible effort and an audible swallow, she responds. 'Snow, trust me. There is nothing about  _that_ ,' says with such scorn and a vicious glare at the oaf still lying on the ground. 'That makes the scenery anything short of hideous.'

 

'Besides, it was me,' Tink chimes in cheerfully, finally, flexing her foot up and down which does nothing to ease the pain in her toes.

 

'Tink? Why would you do something like this?' Snow sounds aghast and close to tears and so damned oblivious, and, oh  _Merlin_ , the fairy just wants to tell her to grow the hell up.

 

'We need food. More than just berries.' In the most matter-of-fact voice that the fairy could create, she meets Snow's eyes limply and informs her. Snow's eyes flutter dazedly, eyes wide and not entirely comprehensive. Her little mouth has fallen open and Tink has to smother another snort.

 

'I guess we could get some of the people to go hunting,' Snow turns her uncertain orbs around the campsite.

 

'He,' Granny aggressively points her finger at the prince that was  _still_  lying on the ground, mouth gaping open in seemingly permanent bewilderment. 'Needs to go hunting for food.'

 

'But we have other people to do that,' Snow begins only to be interrupted by the unimpressed derision of the older woman.

 

'He needs to get off his ass and start doing something,' she retorts acerbically.

 

'He's the Prince and he's leading us back to the castle. And we've just lost our daughter,' Snow splutters indignantly.

 

'He's not  _my_ prince,' comes the unflinching reply, steely eyes gazing unfalteringly into the younger pair. 'And I've had enough of the moping,  _both_  of yours. It's time you grew up and acted like leaders, if you want to lead. Until then, you're helping the rest of us with the chores.'

 

She's walked away without offering Snow any opportunity to protest, and Tink has no issue whatsoever letting the grin spread across her face. A quick glance around quickly tells the fairy that Snow wouldn't be getting support against those orders from anyone, innate laziness and fear of the older woman's tongue being more than sufficient incentives to keep their mouths shut.

 

So, begrudgingly, with noisy grumbling and dark looks thrown in every which direction (most often in Regina's), the shepherd prince wanders off with a handful of other men to hunt for meat (the dwarves refusing point-blank). Snow, meanwhile, has taken to meandering around the campsite uncertainly. Tink has joined Regina in chopping the meagre edible vegetables they had scrounged up, admiring her neatly identical slices, as the remainder of the women foraged for further berries and nuts and the remaining men folk cleared away the campsite.

 

The old woman settles herself next to them, one of a handful that voluntarily veer towards the Queen but if she notices, Tink can't tell. It takes a minute but soon there is a small fire going, the flames too insubstantial to cast a yellow glow around anything beyond the grass and the weathered hands that tends them. She is remarkably suited to the wildness, as much as she had ever been at home in her personal diner. The flames weren't anything that would threaten even an ant, but they were sustained, and were soon surrounded by large twigs and small sticks that had the tips sharpened to a slightly more threatening point.

 

'We need water,' she grunts, and Tink can practically see Regina doing her best to pointedly ignore the old woman and the little fairy has to swallow back another snort. Maybe the Blue hag was right? Maybe she was spending too much time with the Evil Queen but Regina never seems evil, she just seemed to have a sense of humour that correlated rather too well with her own, she thinks.

 

'Maybe you're okay with the miserably lazy dwarves lounging around and complaining, but maybe I'll chat to you all day if you don't organise them,' she continues, smirking meanly at the queen, eyes glinting with malicious pleasure.

 

With a scowl mostly for show, and only the  _tiniest_ hint of gleeful satisfaction, Regina stands up gracefully, stalking to where the dwarves were clustered together. Her voice carries as she relays Granny's orders, word for word. And the clearing grows ever quieter as the noisy retaliations take place. As if seven dwarves ever had a chance against one Regina, Tink thinks as she sniggers along with the observers who watch in amusement.

 

'Gruel's easier on a sick stomach,' Widow Lucas mutters in the midst of the commotion and Tink would have assumed it was to herself except for the sly glance she throws to Tink. Regina might choose to ignore it but she most certainly has found a friend in this woman with a weathered face and battered hands that held far more strength and canny skill than her well meaning but ditzy granddaughter could fathom. And as Tink looks at the looming trees, the stifling shadows that crowds them, that feeling of  _wrong wrong wrong_  bombarding her again, she is glad, so  _very_  glad that Regina has one other friend by her side, at least.


End file.
